Winter isn’t my favorite season. If it only lasted from December 1st to say, January 15th I’d probably love it but alas it seems to last 6 months in Upstate NY. I don’t ski, snowboard or snowshoe. I don’t think anyone would ever describe me as a snow bunny. I’ll go out and play in the snow with my girls and I enjoy that. The first snowfall of December and the promise of a white Christmas is lovely too. Otherwise I feel like snow’s main goal is to keep me huddled inside under a blanket, covered with animals.
The first real snowfall of the season started falling here last night. By morning there was a thin blanket of white across the landscape. Jazzmin was ecstatic to frolic in it and sniff snort through it trying to find familiar scents in the grass beneath. Jordan thought it was pretty but too cold. Jaycie was very excited to see the snow and wanted to play in it but with wind chills in the teens this morning, she changed her mind. I was happy I’d already dug out my winter boots and coat so I wouldn’t slip down my deck steps on the way out to the bus stop.
Today was one of those confused winter days where it was sunny one moment then snowing and blowing the next. Mama Nature was having fun shaking her snow globe today! None of the new snow accumulated though and the skies cleared enough to reveal a rather pretty sky after the sun set. Even so, I admit that the sudden presence of snow made me a bit grumpy.
When I took Jazz out for the last time tonight, I stepped onto my deck steps, looked up and was greeted by the sight of the half-moon. A smile immediately lit my face and in the clarity of cold and moonlight, my mood instantly lifted. It was as if the moon was telling me that everything will be okay, that even in the darkness and cold, light is always shining. Sometimes even I forget that but thankfully the powers that be are kind enough to remind me.
It rained most of the day today but shortly before the sun set I saw its glow lighting my front trees. Curious to see how the sky looked after all the rain, I took Jazz outside and saw a full rainbow stretching across the eastern sky. It was still raining as I looked at it but I didn’t really mind.
I chased a rainbow once and it led me where I wanted to be but perhaps not at the right time. That journey served a purpose though and proved to me that there is always light after the storm. Sometimes rainbows shine in that light. Sometimes the storm clouds don’t part until the night and then its up to the moon and stars to shine. And sometimes the storm doesn’t pass until the next day and the light is the rising sun. But the light always returns, you just need to know when and where to look.
I believe in magic. Life would be stale, lifeless and dull if magic didn’t exist. I see magic in everyday events and I always feel magic when I look at the moon. No matter what phase the moon is in, the moment I see it I feel mystical powers at work.
Tonight as the moon rose in the east while the sun set in the west I began to wonder. What if the sun loves the moon? Is it filled with longing as the moon stays just out of reach? Does it wonder what the moon is hiding on its dark side? When the moon and sun share the sky do they tell each other stories about everything they’ve seen? Does the sun wonder why the moon grows quiet when they’re far apart? Is the sun worried the mystical, shadowed moon finds the constant, bright glow of the sun boring? Does the sun long to feel the cool night air and to experience the excitement of the darkness the moon so often dwells in? Does the moon ever long for the sun?
I can wonder all this but the answers are a mystery to me. The romance between the sun and moon is undoubtedly a complicated relationship if it exists. Perhaps the romance began with the thrill of the chase. I imagine the sun is sad if she feels like she’s always chasing moonlight only to be forgotten in the darkness.
Below is poem I wrote years ago that is still one of my favorite pieces. I’ve posted it on my old blog and on my Helium.com page in the past. I was thinking this morning that it might need a more recent revamp. While it still holds true, there is so much more to being “That Woman” in the life I have now.
I wonder what it is like to be “that woman.”
The woman who walks in the room
and demands everyone’s attention.
The woman with the dark eyes,
full of mystery and magic
that draw in both men and women,
and makes them yearn to know the secrets hidden within.
The woman with the cascading raven hair
that evokes ballads from minstrels and sonnets from poets.
The woman who leaves a nearly physical spirit behind
with anyone who has ever been fortunate enough to touch her.
The woman whose vision lingers in dreams
and whose voice echoes softly amidst whispers.
The woman with fingers tender enough
to caress the most delicate of mists
and nails hard enough to pierce the harshest of stones.
The woman whose influence is remembered
when her existence has long faded.
The woman men rally to defend
though she possesses her own strength for battle.
The woman who runs drenched amidst a thunderstorm
to challenge the lightning with her fists.
The woman whose passion is not seen with eyes
but perceived by souls.
The woman whose laughter can illuminate the darkest of days
if only in a memory.
The woman who can carry the heaviest and saddest of hearts upon her shoulders
without a single faltering step.
The woman who lingers on the edge of darkness
while clinging to the shadows of moonlight.
The woman who cherishes the girl of her past
while knowing that she is intertwined with the goddess of her future.
That woman within and without me.